


The Nicest Kids In Town

by Renne



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: M/M, Military, One Shot, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-16
Updated: 2009-11-16
Packaged: 2017-10-03 01:03:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Renne/pseuds/Renne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rudy struggles with his feelings in the middle of the Iraq and learns that on a mission, home was right there where you were.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Nicest Kids In Town

Rudy wasn't gay. Not really.

He was outrageously flamboyant, yes, and completely comfortable with his anima, definitely. Maybe he was even a little fruity, as Corporal Person liked to say. But he wasn't gay. Not like that. He didn't swing that way. He didn't size up his fellow warriors and imagine what it would be like to run his mouth over their whole body, or think about what their faces would look like when they came, or have a combat jack over the homoerotic testosterone-fuelled posturing that went on within the company at all hours of the day and night.

Rudy? Definitely not gay.

No, not at all.

Except.

Except Rudy was starting to think that it might not necessarily be the truth. Well, not one hundred percent fool-proof _all_ the truth, anyway. Not since he'd started to consider at least two of those things, and not just as a way to pass the time, either.

It wasn't like he was a cock-hungry homosexual, eager to get all up in the business of any hot piece of man flesh that came his way. It wasn't even like he wanted to jump all the physically attractive Marines that surround him day in day out either (though he could readily admit to a more... physical admiration of some of his brothers in arms; it wasn't his fault that he appreciated the hell out of men who looked after their health, and some of them really were fine looking guys anyway).

After all, his heart had a home back in the states, but home was a long way away in the middle of a war. And Rudy, like most of the guys, knew that home didn't bear thinking about when you were on a mission. Home was a distraction. Home could get you killed.

On a mission, home was right there where you were. Right there with your brothers, fighting the good fight and staying alive so you could go back to your real home in one piece. Wherever you racked for the night, well, that was home.

And in this new home, this temporary, moving home that was wherever he and his company were... well, this new home had its loves too.

No. That wasn't right.

It had its love. Not loves. There was just the one.

Oh hell. Maybe he was going down the gay path if he was starting to think of it as love on top of everything else. Not that there was anything wrong with that of course, but Rudy just had never thought of that as being him, no matter what the other guys had to say. It wasn't a box he considered himself suited for. Confident in his heterosexuality, metrosexuality was more his strength. Maybe it was a case where gender played no role.

Maybe he was just thinking about this too much.

Just because he wanted to – to kiss and touch and _please_ one of his brothers in arms (he couldn't even think of it in crude terms that would just make it about release; couldn't think about it as a fuck or a suck or a quick hand job in the dark) didn't mean anything, right? Right?

Rudy sighed dramatically and slumped back in his seat. It was hard to think about anything else sometimes, when the main alternative was thinking about the myriad of new ways their illustrious command group could think up to get them all killed. There was a reason why Recon Marines usually left their officers behind and this war was drawing the picture in dangerous, excruciating lines. Annoyed, Rudy rubbed at his eyes. Like everyone else, the raw grit of dust constantly hanging in the air had irritated his eyes, leaving them red and inflamed.

'Hey,' Doc said. He'd joined the team under their cammie netting by the Humvee to check them over, and make sure there weren't any niggling issues anyone might have neglected to bring up with him. Doc might be a hard-assed bastard incapable of keeping his mouth shut when he thought that command were going to get them killed, but he was a good guy who genuinely cared about them and not just because it was his job. He couldn't help it if he was angry ninety-eight percent of the time. 'Don't rub at them, Rudy, you'll make 'em worse.'

'Yeah. You make 'em worse, who'm I gonna have spot for me then?' Pappy chirped up from where he sat, cleaning his rifle. Rudy glanced over and Pappy flashed him one of his small, tight smiles.

'You might have to do some of the work yourself then, brother, instead of just pulling the trigger,' Rudy teased lightly and when Pappy's smile broadened warmly Rudy felt his heart flip flop in his chest. His own grin faded and he glanced away.

Later, when it was dark and Rudy dozed in the Humvee – he considered moving to his Ranger grave, he really did, but it was all the way down on the ground and Rudy was quite comfortable where he was – Pappy came to see him. Rudy stirred at the scuff of boots. He didn't even need to look up to recognise the step. 'Heya Pappy,' he said.

'Hey.' Pappy slid into his passenger seat, settling in with a soft sigh. He sat there for a long pause but it wasn't an uncomfortable one; it never was with Pappy, Rudy thought. They worked so well together.

Damn.

Eventually Rudy flicked a sideways look at Pappy. He was staring out through the windscreen of their jeep, his face creased in thought and his hand resting lightly on his gun. It was a surprisingly nice night in the desert for once, the clouded moonlight perfect for intimate tête-à-tête's like this but not bright enough to light them up for any Iraqi's on the prowl and looking for Marine prey. The weather was clement and no real threat of a shamal loomed on the horizon. With the gentled lights of village over dozen klicks away (and it wasn't getting the shelled, even better luck), you could almost ignore the war and enjoy it as a good night to spend with good company.

Or it should have been anyway, but for these unspoken feelings twisting up inside Rudy's chest.

And that was so unlike him.

All the guys knew that if you wanted touchy-feely emotional shit, the person you went to for it was good ol' Fruity Rudy. If you were having trouble rationalising anything, Rudy could rustle up a passage or two from the Tao Te Ching to help. Not that these grunts often understood it themselves, but with a little explaining and some time to think about it, Rudy was sure they could. How strange then that when it came to his own problems – no, not problems, nor issues, but feelings – Rudy couldn't, or wouldn't, say a word.

Pappy glanced over at him. His brow was furrowed with concern and Rudy wanted to reach out and smooth away the lines between his eyebrows with a gentle touch. Smooth 'em out and tease him that frowns'll give him wrinkles and everything is okay, Pap, no really, no need to worry about your boy Rudy, he's doing just fine. Always doing fine, even when he's not.

Pappy looked at Rudy for a long moment, still frowning, his mouth pulled to the side. He hesitated before reaching out and placing his hand on Rudy's wrist. It wasn't that Pappy didn't care for physical contact; Rudy knew this, because if that was the case the intimacies of their role as a sniper team would be seriously compromised. It was just that between them, maybe _because_ of their job as a sniper team, Rudy was the one who usually initiated touch outside of work. Most times they went into action together as a team (as a single unit) it was Pappy setting up, wearing Rudy close like a second skin.

It was normal sniper team procedure for the two men to rotate roles. Rudy himself was more than a fair shot with the M40 rifle, but they'd both realised very early on in their partnership that as awesome as they were with Rudy on the rifle, if it was Pappy they were perfect.

And there was that thought again. They were perfect. They worked so well. Together. Together they were a single unit.

Rudy scrubbed one hand over his face as Pappy's grip on his other wrist tightened. 'Is everything alright with you, Rudy? Really?' Rudy closed his eyes behind his hand and let the concern in Pappy's North Carolina drawl wash over him. It filled up the holes and tears he didn't even realise his soul had. 'I ain't gonna just let you sit there and pretend everything's fine if it's not. I – I do – I mean, I worry about you. Sometimes.' And he smiled faintly, dimples flashing into view with even the tiniest shred of humour. 'You're our all American Marine hero, we all know it, but I know that sometimes... well, sometimes it's hard.' He stared out the windscreen again. 'When we're asked to do some of the fucked up shit we've been asked to do, sometimes it's fuckin' hard.'

Rudy didn't miss the change in the timbre of Pappy's voice and immediately shifted from moping over his own business to concern over Pappy. He'd do anything to keep that tone from Pappy's voice.

'You need to talk, Pap?'

Pappy grimaced and sniffed, lifting his hand from Rudy's arm to swipe the back of his wrist under his nose. 'I need all this to make sense.' It was a reassuringly unguarded sentence. Pappy wasn't like Doc to shoot off at the mouth every single time he thought command was bending them over a barrel to take it like a man. Oh, he had words to say like they all did and he didn't stint with them if they needed to be said, but Rudy knew that Pappy with his laconic Southern charm was the calmest of the sergeants over the way they were getting screwed day in and day out.

The spot where Pappy's fingers had curled around Rudy's wrist it felt warm, like it held the residual warmth of another human touch. Rudy wrapped his fingers around his wrist a moment, as if to set Pappy's touch into his skin.

'None of this makes sense. But like the good soldiers we all are, we do what we're told whether we like it or not.' Impulsively, Rudy reached out to Pappy, cupping his cheek in one hand. He'd shaved earlier that evening, so his skin was smooth under Rudy's fingers. No little missed patches that Rudy needed to clean up so Godfather wouldn't think his Pappy a bum.

Rudy felt rather than saw Pappy's smile before he tipped his head in against Rudy's palm. 'You always do know what to say,' he said, reaching up to touch his fingers lightly against the back of Rudy's hand. It was only a fleeting touch, but the way it made Rudy's heart bounce around wildly in his chest was worth every moment of that split second.

He really was completely useless, wasn't he? Rudy thought of himself with good-natured exasperation. He dropped his hand from Pappy's cheek just before there was a tap on the hood of the Humvee. Chaffin peered through the windscreen at them. 'Your watch, Pappy,' he said tiredly. Pappy nodded and Chaffin shuffled away into the darkness.

Pappy looked again at Rudy for a long moment. 'I know you, Rude, and I know when something ain't right,' he said and reached out to grip Rudy's shoulder before sliding out of the Humvee before Rudy could even think of a response. He knew Pappy wouldn't let this lie; sooner or later he'd be back.

Once more Rudy scrubbed his hands over his face. He had no idea what the hell he was meant to do, say, think, feel about any of this.

Well, that wasn't entirely true.

Rudy mightn't have any idea, but his subconscious sure did if the dreams looping through his brain when he eventually crawled into his grave were any indication. When he woke up with a hard on he rolled over and punched the side of his grave in frustration, setting off a small avalanche of loose stones and dirt.

It wasn't even like it was a fucking _sex_ dream.

If his subconscious was going to make it difficult to do his damn job, then Rudy was going to have to have words with it. Dreams of teaming up with Pappy to kill men shouldn't make him hard. Sniping was their job. And to do it good, to do it well, he had to be Pappy's second skin; he had to lie along Pappy's back as close and tight as he could as they breathed in sync so what he saw and thought was what Pappy saw and thought.

Just as when the roles were reversed. He slid his hand into his MOPP suit and under his fatigues to grip his cock with a tired sigh. The warm, reassuring feel of Pappy's weight against his back, Pappy's leg pressing up between his, his voice right in Rudy's ear (a soft drawl of technical terminology, but as Rudy stroked himself it might as well have been filthy sex talk for all his memories cared).

On any other given day or night, Rudy's body might be his temple, but right now he was desecrating the hell out of it and his friendship with Pappy as he tried to imagine it was Pappy's hand shoved awkwardly into his MOPP suit. He frowned and squeezed himself harder. Guilt while jacking off was a new one. He tried not to think of what Pappy would think of him if he knew what Rudy was thinking about. Tried to just focus on the things he loved best (dimples, smile, voice, eyes, hands, press of leg, body warmth, soul warmth, him, him, _him_) until he jammed one hand against his mouth and came into the other.

Rudy swore softly and sat up reaching for his baby wipes to clean up his mess. He wasn't happy with how this mission was messing with his head. It had to be messing with him, otherwise he wouldn't be feeling like this, all off-balance and out of sorts. He didn't feel like himself and as far as he was concerned, that was what wasn't right. Rudy wasn't used to it and he wasn't even sure he could blame it on the Pappy... thing. He wished he was anywhere but here as he shoved the dirty wipe into an empty MRE. Afghanistan. Afghanistan had been a cake walk compared with this. Hell, even running exercise classes on the deck of the _Dubuque_ to burn off all the excess energy thrumming around the ship before they'd invaded Afghanistan had been better than this.

He'd had no doubts about himself at all to contend with. No longings inappropriate not only for the situation they were in but for their whole damn lives.

'Hey, Rudy?'

'What?' he snapped, scowling.

Pappy looked wide eyed and taken aback in the pre-dawn light. 'Well, I was – I was just gonna—' and he stopped talking then and just offered Rudy an opened MRE silently. Once more there was a faint crease between his brows and he'd caught the edge of his lip in his teeth.

Guilt. Again with the guilt. Rudy should know better than to take out his anger at himself on anyone else, and not his Pappy of all people. It sure as hell wasn't his fault Rudy felt the way he did. Pappy was the one innocent in all of this.

Rudy gave Pappy a hangdog look. 'I'm sorry, brother.' The problem with thinking about guilt in the context of "again", Rudy quickly realised, was that when you thought "again", you tended to think of the first time too, and with Pappy crouched by his grave the last think Rudy needed to think of was jacking off only moments ago over this very man.

But ratfucking an MRE was their morning ritual as much as they could manage it (scraps for breakfast now meant more to eat later), and Rudy wasn't just going to throw that to hell just because his subconscious had suddenly decided that Pappy was the sexiest thing since sliced bread.

Not that he thought sliced bread was sexy. Oh god.

He shifted his legs so Pappy could sit down in the hole next to him and they shared the MRE in silence.

Sometimes the good thing about being in the middle of a foreign country in the middle of a war was that there was very little time spent alone in quiet solitude. Marines were always on. Even at rest you were on, waiting for the next barrage of artillery, as command moved the company to a new location as part of some ineffable plan that you have to trust because hey, you were a Marine and that was what you did. Move to a different location, dig in enough just to get to the point where you felt comfortable like you were actually going to stay in the one place for more than five minutes only to get told to pack up and move again.

The day – Day? Were they still days when they started in the middle of the night and ended during daylight hours? – had passed in little more than driving through mostly pleasant countryside occasionally coming under small arms fire and a few cases of RPG teams and mortars. Another air strike that no one understood called in on a civilian village that to all appearance was populated by innocent women and children. Another day in the Iraqi war and it was all the same.

Rudy ached for simplicity. He didn't want these Humvees and driving for hours just to trip ambushes. He wanted foot patrols and reconnaissance and orders that made sense. Days that were days and didn't just bleed into one. Tensions that could be washed away in a burst of adrenaline and whizzing tracers and gunshots and explosions; tensions that didn't linger long into the next days because the company was losing faith with command. He wanted what he'd trained for, not what he'd been shoe-horned into because someone wanted another ribbon to pin on their dress blues.

Another night of Ranger graves and Rudy just couldn't do it. After his watch he wrapped himself up in his poncho and scooted under the Humvee. It was vaguely gratifying to see that he wasn't the only one to take this easy way out. Their Lieutenant was under his own Humvee, trying to steal a few hours of sleep himself before the next disaster hit.

Rain began to fall. For the first time since they had entered Iraq, Rudy closed his eyes and fell immediately into a dark, dreamless sleep, the soft patter of rain soothing.

He stirred after maybe an hour at the distant sound of artillery, but there were no calls to action so he pulled his poncho tighter against the rain-chilled desert air and dozed off again. Less than twenty minutes later he woke again as someone scuffed in under the Humvee next to him.

'S' me, Rudy. Ain't nothin' to worry about, jus' go back to sleep, 'kay?' Pappy slurred tiredly from right by his side before he sighed gustily. Rudy rolled over onto his side and instinctively reached out to bump his knuckles against Pappy's shoulder.

The third time he woke was just shy of dawn and he felt almost refreshed from his nearly four hours sleep. He yawned and huddled closer to Pappy, pressing his face in against the back of Pappy's neck. At first he thought nothing of it as he slowly became aware of being warm and dry on his front and cold and possibly even damp on his back, and his mind was slowly putting the pieces together when Chaffin crouched down and peered under the Humvee. 'Oh, Jesus Christ,' he snorted and stood back up.

'What's up?' Rudy heard Jacks ask.

'Fruity Rudy's spoonin' the TL—' and at that Jacks snorted too, '—and Pap's out like a light. It's pretty fuckin' homosexual under there.' There wasn't anything but amusement in Chaffin's tone.

'C'mon man, it's pretty fuckin' homosexual any time those two get together,' Jacks said. 'Remember that time with Trombley? Fuck, man, the look on his face that time Rudy offered to give the TL a full body massage? He said it would be good for his chi or some other hippie bullshit like that while practically fuckin' rubbing one out on Pap's leg and Trombley nearly shit himself.'

Chaffin guffawed. 'Psycho little motherfucker was gagging to say somethin' about it too. Eyes damn near bugging out of his head. You know, Manimal, I do love it when those two carry on with their shit sometimes. It's fuckin' worth it for the FNGs.'

'Fuck yeah! But trust us to get the most married TL and second in the whole battalion,' Jacks said. 'I mean, wouldn't trade 'em for the world, but _damn_ are they like... married or something? Ain't that shit s'posed to be illegal?'

'Don't think I can't hear y'all out there, gossiping worse than old ladies,' Pappy said suddenly, his voice sleep-rough but amused. It was all Rudy could do not to tense up and roll away. As far as he knew Pappy thought he was still asleep and as fucking ridiculous at it might have sounded, if Pappy was content to stay there where he was for the moment, Rudy was content to stay right where he was too.

There was laughter at Pappy's words. 'Morning, Sergeant,' Jacks said. 'Sleep well? Rudy didn't keep you – uh, keep you up all night?' The laughter was louder and Chaffin chimed in with his agreement. It might only have been a jest but the thought blazed right through Rudy's brain until he was suddenly and excruciatingly aware of his arm tucked around Pappy's waist. Rudy's hand nestled under Pappy's poncho, low on his belly between Pappy's own arm and the irritating bulk of his MOPP suit. He bit his lip, hard.

'Now you know that ain't none of your damn business, Corporal Chaffin. You kids just run along now and go get some breakfast for your Mom and Pop.'

Chaffin let out a loud bray of laughter before he and Jacks shuffled off obediently. Rudy listened to their chatter fade.

Pappy snorted. 'Kids.' There was a brief heartbeat of silence, then: 'I know you're awake, Rudy,' he said.

To Rudy's credit he didn't even flinch. 'Just enjoying being comfortable, Pap,' he said easily. 'And warm and dry. You know how it is.'

Pappy huffed a soft laugh. 'Yeah. I guess I do.' He patted Rudy's hand where it still rested on his belly. 'Should get up though before they come back. Make sure everything's still all running smooth.' He gently disengaged himself from Rudy and scooted out from under the Humvee.

Rudy closed his eyes and sighed inwardly. He couldn't believe his fucking subconscious. After first giving him a boner over Pappy, it was now playing these kinds of games with him. Stealth subconscious _spooning_? What was that even about?

Oh hell, he really was completely gone. Completely taken with Pappy, if even his subconscious was ready to take steps. Rudy rolled onto his back and pressed the heel of his hand against his forehead. It honestly wasn't like he had ever felt like this about any of the other guys he knew. Maybe he was just Pappy-sexual.

Rudy blinked, staring up at the dirt encrusted undercarriage of his Victor. He was surprisingly okay with "Pappy-sexual" actually. Huh. Of course, "sexual" made him think of more visceral pleasures and then he was remembering back at Camp Matilda where he's seen all the boys naked, or mostly naked, and Pappy was all lean and rangy but it wasn't an unattractive kind of leanness. There was muscle definition there that had made Rudy want to trace a finger along it even then. The thought now was not of his finger but his tongue. He shivered a little with lust.

'You coming or you gonna hide under there like the Iceman?'

'Sorry Pappy, my man, I'm coming. Just got a little distracted.' Heh. Just a little. He flashed Pappy a sly half-grin and wriggled out. Pappy-sexual, indeed.

Rudy had plenty of experience ignoring the good-natured ribbing he constantly took from his platoon for his looks and behaviour, so it was of no consequence to ignore the taunts from the rest of his team as they returned to their Humvee – they'd picked Brunmeier up too on the way, his shift on watch finished – with little more than a smile that said "I too am amused by your joking. Very funny. Well done with that."

It was too easy to play up to the guys when they watched for it hungrily. He didn't know why it was such a fascination to them, but it was and Rudy was content to be their ice-breaker in moments when a laugh or kind word was needed. Hell, even when compassion was wanted but unable to be asked for. He could fill any roll they needed him to, and he knew a lot of the other guys weren't capable of that.

When Godfather pulled them from the road after reliable intel of an ambush ahead – no one was more surprised than Hitman Two when they weren't ordered to trip it themselves – they had a chance for decent rest.

It was nice to rest in the daytime, in a nice field with sunshine and grass and very minimal risk of shelling. After Reporter got on telling tales about his time as a writer for _Hustler_ (all the guys loved a good porn story and the more fucked up the better) Pappy wandered over. Rudy, as always these days, was tuned in to every facet of Pappy's very existence the moment they got out of the Humvees, and he knew the moment Pappy came over from where he'd been talking with Eric and Brad.

The delighted disbelief from the rest of the guys was worth it as always, as he produced a razor – not for his own sake had he chosen to stash the cheap, plastic razor on his kit – and when Pappy obediently tipped his head, carefully cleaned up a patch of stubble that Pappy had missed on his jaw. This audience was too good to give up, so he leaned in, his fingers lingering on Pappy's chest just above the v of his MOPP suit. He wasn't lying when he mentioned the chafing from Pappy's SAPI plate, but honestly it wasn't so bad that on anyone else it would rate a mention.

Of course, Pappy wasn't just anyone else. Never would be, never could be, not in Rudy's eyes.

And anyway, Rudy had to look out for his team leader's comfort and wellbeing. That was his _job_. Pappy shot him a wryly warm smile but didn't pull away.

There was a titter of laughter and since Pappy seemed to be in the mood and happy to oblige everyone with this display of... well, this display of whatever it was, Rudy stepped into his personal space. 'Am I pushing you, my man? Am I going too far?' Pappy laughed and glanced away almost bashfully, but when he looked back up he held Rudy's gaze. Well, Rudy was committed now. He threw his arm around Pappy's shoulders and tugged him even closer. Chaffin laughed and Pappy never shifted his gaze for a moment. Rudy felt like someone had clenched their fist around his heart as he became the one who couldn't look away. He faltered helplessly, glib words sticking in his teeth like caramel.

Pappy must have seen that in his eyes, because he cocked his head minutely, his eyes narrowing. Rudy took a deep breath just as Person called for more coffee and expelled it gustily as he turned away. It was only after he'd tipped the dregs from his pot into Person's cup that he realised he hadn't saved any for Pappy. Pappy, who was still watching him with that same intent look as he cleaned his tin mug with a scrap of cloth.

Rudy quickly excused himself with a sunny smile under the pretence he was going to make more coffee. Well, it wasn't really an excuse. He was going to make a new pot, he just needed to get out from under that sharp-eyed, sharp-shooter look Pappy was spearing him with to go and do it. That was all. Nothing more.

'Rude—'

'I'll be back shortly, brother. I'll make a fresh pot, just for you, hey?'

'Just for me?'

Rudy laughed. It didn't even sound forced. 'Well, mostly,' he said with a leer.

Pappy gave him that look again like he didn't buy Rudy's reaction, before his lips quirked into a smile and he nodded. 'Mostly,' he agreed softly and placidly.

Rudy winked. 'I'll be right back.'

The rattle of LAVs broke the moment though before Rudy could even turn and they all turned as one to watch the beasts rolling down the track at the edge of the encampment, corpsmen tending to wounded Marines helplessly sprawled out atop. Blood, saline and pain.

'Jesus _Christ_, dude,' Chaffin breathed and they watched in silence. Whoever it was that the LAVs had run into, they had fucked them up good and proper.

They were silent until the last LAV rolled past. Person shook his head.' That is so fucked up, man,' he said.

Pappy looked at Rudy and Rudy looked at Pappy and then they both turned for the Humvee. Pappy was chewing at the inside of his cheek and toying with his tin of Copenhagen by the time they reached the canopy. 'Those LAVs were pretty cut up,' Rudy said tentatively.

Pappy looked at him. Yeah, way to state the obvious, Rudy, you dumbass, his gaze seemed to Rudy to say, but he just nodded. 'Can't help but be glad we didn't truck on into that ambush,' he said instead, squinting at the sky. It was blue from horizon to horizon. 'Shit, Rude, in these piece of shit Humvees we wouldn't stand a chance.'

Splashing a little water into his pot to rinse it clean, Rudy looked enquiringly at Pappy.

'Sure thing,' Pappy said, but his heart wasn't in it any more than Rudy's was.

When they got news that they were going to be staying at this location for longer than the few hours they'd expected it to take to clear the ambush site, everyone bivouacked with pleasure. Reasonably comfortable with their surroundings, Rudy elected to forgo his grave again, this time camping out under the cammie netting with a feeling that almost reached levels that could be classed as vague contentment. He didn't like going to sleep when it was still daylight – never would – but at the same time he knew that he should try to grab as many hours as possible before he was rotated onto watch. If that meant basking in the dappled sunlight through the netting then damn it, he would bask.

He got in a good four hours sleep right up until the bit where he woke up in a lather of sweat and harder than ever after a true sex dream about Pappy, all bared, slick skin open for Rudy's mouth. He growled and once more shoved his hand under his trousers to grab himself roughly. This time it wasn't with tired resignation that he jerked off, but with the images of Pappy intent with lust over him, under him, arching and gripping Rudy so hard he'd leave bruises if it was for real; images that were burned like a solar flare across in the insides of his eyelids.

'Awkward,' he heard Chaffin say mildly, sleepily somewhere but Rudy ignored him, instead just biting down on his fist to keep in any inappropriate words (like _Pappy_ and _fuck_ and _yes_) as he quickly brought himself off.

He felt the orgasm twist in the base of his spine, sharp and almost painful as his hips jerked against his grip and there wasn't any guilt this time, not even a shred of it lingering in the hollows of his chest or behind his eyes or in the base of his skull. Even once he'd come, once he'd let himself go, his body still sang for Pappy like a siren song, like his lust and need should have been leaking out of his very pores.

'God,' he muttered and exhaled noisily. He hadn't come that quick and hard since he was back in high school. 'Wipes... where are my—'

A packet of wipes landed on his chest. He glanced up.

It wasn't, as he'd almost expected with his heart thudding up in his throat, Pappy standing right there like he'd been conjured up by Rudy's overly fertile imagination. It was just Brunmeier, right where he should be in the Humvee, cradling the handset to their radio. He shrugged apologetically when Rudy looked at him. What else was he meant to do when he was tasked with minding the hook and Rudy insisted on rubbing one out right there on the ground?

'Sorry brother,' Rudy said as he sat up, but he didn't sound sorry at all. There was still something of an aroused rasp to his tone that had him clearing his throat awkwardly.

Brunmeier waved his hand. 'Don't think nothin' of it, Rude,' he said and Rudy nodded and finished wiping his hands. Brunmeier then grinned. 'Think I've got the full bag now.'

'Huh?'

His teeth seemed impossibly white in the darkness. 'Manimal and Chaffin more times than I care to count, Pappy, and now you. I've bagged a full—uh, I mean... not bagged, I've seen—_accidentally_ seen all of you combat jacking now.'

Rudy felt vaguely impressed on Brunmeier's behalf and strangely awkward at the same time. 'Uh,' he said. 'Nice work?' Then: 'Wait, _Pappy_?' And it was exactly as hard as he could have imagined not to sound completely incredulous at that.

He knew Pappy was a hot blooded male, but he was very particular about things like... well, like combat jacks. He wasn't like the younger guys who'd nip around the side of the Humvee with a _Hustler_ in hand and bang one out, bellowing if they were interrupted.

Brunmeier shrugged again, a one shouldered shrug accompanied by a pleased smile. 'It was by accident,' he said. 'I was tweaking one night and had to take a walk. This is gonna bag me the jackpot.' When Rudy shot him a puzzled look he spread his hands. 'Me and some of the other guys took a bet. Hey, it fills the time,' he said a little defensively.

Rudy laughed helplessly. 'I should have fucking known,' he said good-naturedly. He wasn't offended. He and some of the other PFCs had similar kinds of bets when they were first deployed. Of course, it wasn't quite a situation like invading Iraq, but they'd been young and kind of stupid and foolish enough to play these games too.

He pushed to his feet, shuffling around to the back of the Humvee to get a bottle of water to wash the shitty dust-taste out of his mouth. It was weird to still feel the adrenaline thrum of need under his kin after he'd came so hard, but his mind still simmered with the dream-memories of Pappy's need and he felt jitterier than he had in a long time.

He leaned his full weight on his arm against the back of the Humvee, pressing his forehead against his arm. There was still a light slick of sweat on his skin and for a moment all Rudy could think about was being clean. Standing under a shower with high pressure and fully adjustable temperature and soaping himself all over and _moisturising_... god he needed to look after himself better in the field. His skin stank of dirt and gun oil and death and wow, wasn't that a mood-killer. He pushed himself straight again just so his nose wouldn't be in as close contact with his own filthy skin.

'Hey, Rude?'

Rudy started and turned. This time it was Pappy standing there, a quirk between his brows as he looked at Rudy with concern. 'You alright?'

'Huh? Oh. Oh, yeah.' Rudy gave him a sheepish look. 'It was just – I dunno. I need a shower and baby wipes just aren't cutting it anymore.' His mind bounced straight from baby wipes to jerking off and man, Pappy standing there right then had never looked better, he's sure of it. He wouldn't care about the dirt on Pappy's skin, that's for sure.

But Pappy didn't notice Rudy's sudden sharpening, because he glanced down at the ground and then off to the side and then at his hand where it rested on the side of the side of the Humvee like he was having difficulty meeting Rudy's gaze. He hadn't noticed the almost predatory longing that sang through Rudy's veins.

Scrubbing his hand over his face, Pappy said, 'Rudy, I... I want to talk. I think we need to talk.'

He wanted to talk? Talking was the last thing Rudy wanted. He wanted to turn and grab Pappy and shove him up against the Humvee. He wanted to kiss him, hard, and have Pappy respond to him instead of him responding to Pappy all the time. He wanted to make Pappy reach for him, to want him, to _need_ him. Wanted to jam his leg up between Pappy's and push at him until they both got off. He wanted to be the one to break Pappy into a million pieces and put him back together again.

But that was never going to happen. Not in a million, billion years. Rudy was wise to this so he looked over at his team leader with a placid expression fixed on his face. 'Sure Pap. What did you want to talk about?'

Pappy's mouth thinned into a line as he shifted forward a little. He gave Rudy a faintly disappointed expression; of course Pappy would know a mask when he saw one. Rudy felt faintly ridiculous for even trying and managed a wry, apologetic smile and half-hearted shrug of his shoulder. _Sorry_.

''Scuse me, Pap,' Brunmeier interrupted, leaning out of the Humvee. He tapped the handset. LT's called a team leader meeting over by his victor.'

Rudy could have shouted with joy. Seriously Awkward Moment averted!

Standing, Pappy reached out and placed his hand on Rudy's shoulder. 'When I get back, okay?' he said quietly. It was less a question and more a promise. Damn. When Rudy reluctantly nodded, Pappy looked over at Brunmeier. 'I'm pretty sure this means we ain't gonna be sitting around here all night, so at least have a think about what you might need to prep, okay?'

Brunmeier nodded. 'You want me to wake...?' He jerked his thumb back at Chaffin, who was passed out in the back seat of the Humvee with his mouth gaping open as he snored and snuffled, and Jacks who was sprawled awkwardly next to him, his face wedged in between the seat and the edge of Chaffin's flak vest. Chaffin's fist was balled up near his chin. Rudy couldn't help the surge of fondness in his chest.

Shaking his head, Pappy said, 'On the off chance this is just gonna be the LT telling us to get a good night's rest,' but his expression showed how sceptical he was of that idea, 'better leave 'em sleep. They ain't had more'n a couple of hours a night apiece since Matilda and we all need to take it when we can get it. Those boys wake up good anyway.' He squeezed Rudy's shoulder before picking his way out from under the cammie netting.

Rudy watched him lope over to the Lieutenant's Humvee. 'You think it's going to be on?' Brunmeier asked absently, also watching Pappy's course.

Rudy glanced at him and then over at the Lieutenant's Humvee, their team leader just a shadow in the dark. 'Yeah, brother. I do.'

The discussion between the team leaders and their Lieutenant was quick and dirty and then Pappy was striding back over towards them. One look and Rudy knew it was on. He jerked his head at Brunmeier. 'Wake them up,' Rudy said.

'Huh?'

'We're out tonight.'

Brunmeier glanced over in Pappy's direction before reaching back and punching Chaffin's knee. 'Wake up,' he said, 'you're missing the best part of the day.' Chaffin snuffled and then jolted awake, his fist jerking down to smack Jacks on the top of the head. Jacks grunted awake and then bellowed and for a moment there was a sharp, angry scuffle in the back of the Humvee.

'Hey!' Pappy said sharply. Chaffin's face popped around the doorframe followed by Jacks'. 'We've got a job tonight.' He quickly outlined the mission that the Lieutenant had given them and Rudy knew even as he spoke that this was some serious shit. Exactly what he needed.

As soon as Pappy finished outlining their role Rudy bounced around to the back of the Humvee, reaching for fresh ammo. As driver he mightn't get to shoot as much as the rest of his team but if they were going to be setting up ambushes then Rudy could shoot the shit out of just as many bad guys as anyone else and damned if he wasn't going to go into this fully prepared. Both hands on his gun was nothing like trying to drive and shoot at the same time.

'Hey Bud?' he said, poking his head around the back of the Humvee.

Brunmeier glanced up from his weapon. 'Yeah Rude?'

'Do you have any working batteries at all? My NVGs are useless—'

'Sorry man, mine are fucked too. You want we can swap over? You're gonna be driving and all. Fucked if I want my driver going into this dog blind.' He grinned.

Rudy hesitated. It felt wrong to take Brunmeier's eyes from him. That's what he'd be doing if he swapped out his batteries since his NVGs were fucked. 'Give me a moment, brother, I'll check the other victors and see if I can get a couple from them first.'

Brunmeier nodded. 'Let me know, man.'

Rudy waved a hand in acknowledgement. He didn't get far before Pappy caught his arm, his grip firm. Rudy swung around to face him, chin up and alert. But what Pappy said wasn't what Rudy had been expecting. 'We're gonna talk.'

Rudy blinked. 'What? Now?' Giving him a sceptical look, Rudy hoisted his rifle. As much as he enjoyed his little chin-wag sessions with his Pappy, now really wasn't the time. They had a war to get on with, after all. Rudy was well able to differentiate between times when he could moon about over his team leader and when he was required to do his job. This was definitely a "doing his job" time. 'Uh. We're a little busy at the moment—'

'No, not now. After,' Pappy said and frowned like he expected Rudy should have known that already. 'I wanna talk with you. I have to know – I know you're not right and I know I gotta fix it.'

Rudy shook his head and flashed him an easy-come-easy-go grin. 'Nah, Pap, you don't have to fix me. It's not your job. I do it for you, remember?'

The look Pappy shot him spoke volumes and his fingers tightened on Rudy's arm. 'You're my second, Rude, and I can't do it without you. I need you. I need you well and when you're not well, _like you aren't_,' he said quietly but forcefully, his words backed up with a glare when Rudy opened his mouth to protest, '_we're_ not well either. And that ain't good for anyone.'

Rudy stared at him. He closed his mouth.

Pappy stared back.

Honest to god, Rudy had never thought of it that way, that his own issues might affect Pappy like Pappy's did him. He'd shift Heaven and Earth to keep Pappy well and sane and on an even keel, but he'd never even realised that for Pappy the same was just as true. For as different they were, theirs was a symbiotic relationship. They needed each other equally, not one more than the other.

Pappy's expression softened like he had finally realised that Rudy really was that completely clueless. 'I'm here for you too and don't you ever forget that, y'hear?'

It was helplessly instinctive response to Pappy's tenderness that had Rudy blurting out: 'I – Pappy. We - we'll talk,' as a promise rather than an evasion. That wasn't what he wanted to say, it wasn't where he wanted to go. There was no call to take their relationship to that place where Rudy admitted that what he felt for Pappy was more than brotherly. No good could ever come of it. But—

Pappy gave him a searching look. 'You'll tell me what's on your mind? All of it, not just making shit up so I'll leave you alone?' Yeah, sometimes Pappy was too smart for his own good. He tipped Rudy's face up with the barest touch of a fingertip under Rudy's chin and then raised his eyebrow enquiringly. He had the aura of someone who had all the time in the world to wait for an answer.

Sighing, Rudy nodded. 'I will. I'll tell you... everything.'

Everything, up to an including his sudden and outrageously deep attraction to this man in front of him? Shit, with Pappy looking at him like that he probably even meant that too. He felt the impact of his decision right down into his gut but strangely, once he'd come to the decision there was something as reassuring about the thought as there was terrifying. Rudy trusted Pappy. He knew anything he said to Pappy wouldn't go any further, no matter what it was. And it's not like he actually expected anything to come from it either, right?

Reaching out, Pappy slid his hand around the back of Rudy's neck as he leant in close. If not for their Kevlar, their foreheads might have rested together. 'You're my brother, Rudy, and I got your back just like you got mine. Nothing's gonna change that and I know whatever it is you've got on your mind it's gotta be something pretty fuckin' big to leave you this rattled. And you know I ain't gonna judge you for it, right? For anything?'

Again Rudy nodded. 'I know, Pap. I know.' The sincerity of the look in Pappy's eyes couldn't mean anything else. Whether or not Rudy believed it, _Pappy_ believed he could never judge Rudy for anything and make him feel like he'd been left wanting, and in Rudy's experience, Pappy could never dissemble like that. 'When we get back from this mission we'll have a heart to heart, and I'll – I'll tell you everything. I promise.'

Rudy suddenly felt calm. Centred. At peace. When Pappy gently squeezed the back of Rudy's neck, he was sure Pappy could sense it too.

'Are we good?'

'Yeah brother, we're good.'

Pappy squeezed the back of Rudy's neck one last time before he released his grip and leant back. 'C'mon, we've got a job to do.'

Rudy said lightly, 'That was what I was trying to do before you came along.'

Pappy didn't smile; he just nodded once and moved off to complete his own preparation. Rudy turned his attention back to his own gear. It was easier to think only of the mission and not of what he'd promised Pappy. Easy enough, that was, until he suddenly remembered that Pappy never talked about After.

He didn't believe in talking about after the mission. Maybe it was a Southern superstition, Rudy didn't know, but after was strictly off limits to Pappy. It was bad luck, he said. It caused trouble, he said. Maybe he thought that if people were too focused on what was to come after, they wouldn't think of now, and lose focus?

Well. Rudy wouldn't lose focus. He knew how to box things up before a mission so they would never even cross his mind, not the once, not even when things seemed most dire. He'd heard stories of men who'd thought they were going to die, speaking that old cliché of their life passing before their eyes. That had never happened to Rudy. Never would.

Pappy's talk of After wouldn't affect him. And he hoped Pappy knew that.

As he slid into the driver's seat he glanced across at Pappy, who was looking out through the windscreen with a taut frown and a thousand yard stare. Never a good sign. He tapped his knuckles against Pappy's shoulder. 'We on?'

Pappy snapped to. His eyes immediately became shuttered and intense. 'Damn right we are. Manimal?'

'Yo! I'm on it!' Jacks banged his fist down on the roll bar with enthusiasm. Even after all that had passed since they rolled out of Camp Matilda, Rudy couldn't tell if Jacks' moto was genuine or feigned, even in light of this mission they were being sent on. It was probably real, he thought. The higher the risk of something going terribly fucking wrong, the more guys like Jacks got off on it. The preparations for war could give a guy a real edge sometimes. Rudy had tried to amp it up for his own sake – adrenaline could carry you through anything – but Pappy's unease had fed into him, dialling him down instead into a focused intensity that was a fitting foil to Pappy's cold-eyed killer mood.

'Bud? Chaffin?'

'I'm ready to bag me some filthy hajji motherfuckers,' Chaffin drawled (predictably) and Brunmeier agreed. 'Right on, man.'

Then the Lieutenant's voice came over the comms, ordering them to roll out.

Clicking his NVGs into place, Rudy swung the Humvee out to join their slow moving convoy. He took a deep, steadying breath, silently running through the principles of the Tao to keep himself centred and calm.

He allowed himself one last moment, one last second, to think about what was to come after all this was done. Allowed himself to think of Pappy and this ridiculous, overwhelming love, of his own heart, of home and being at peace and of life, before he carefully boxed it all up and put it away where he could keep it safe until later, much later. Because first—

'Stick to fifty kph for now,' Pappy said, reaching out to tuck his container of dip into Rudy's pocket. Rudy didn't remember when Pappy had started stashing his dip on Rudy's person before a mission (nor why, although perhaps Rudy's love of good health was it; he knew Rudy would never touch his dip, not in a million years, and this far into on the front dip and cigarettes were precious like gold dust), but he wasn't going to complain. Pappy patted it. 'Keep it safe for me, Rude.'

Rudy squinted through the NVGs at the rear of the victor in front of him. He wished someone had been able to get them some fresh batteries. Seeing where you were going wasn't that overrated, really. 'Roger that,' he agreed.

—First they had to deal with Al Muwaffaqiyah. Lieutenant Fick had told their team leaders that the bridge into Al Muwaffaqiyah had been pounded by artillery all day, but Rudy hadn't been happy with the look on Pappy's face as he passed on this intel. They'd held gaze for a long moment before Pappy had finally looked away with a slight shake of his head. The gesture had spoken volumes.

And as they slowly rolled towards Al Muwaffaqiyah and the bridge up ahead, Rudy knew it was going to be a long night.


End file.
